Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. Wood, reproachfully, as they returned to the parlour. Sheppard,—"pray let me go. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. You don’t deserve it, but he does. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder.
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